


Stark's Monster

by Entwinedlove



Series: Of Heart and Heroes [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Frankenstein AU, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: There was no telling what would happen to the man that would step into the Machine but Stark was sure the Brass would have some use for it.





	Stark's Monster

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](https://i.imgur.com/d6vO5Ah.jpg)

When the lightning struck their bunker, everything seemed to explode at once. Electricity overcharged the Machine and jumped to three of the people standing closest, killing them instantly. Howard thought that maybe it killed the Subject too but in the sudden dark, quiet laboratory there was a groan from within the Machine.

Was this success?

He hurried to wrench the Machine open since the electricity had fried the mechanism and it couldn't be opened automatically. "Sorry, pal," he said between grunts with the crowbar, "I'll get you out eventually."

There was an almighty metallic screech and the top half of the Machine he was working to pry open flew off and across the room. He backed up, shocked and disgusted by what he saw.

The Subject, the short, scrawny raw recruit that Erskine had selected for their experiments had grown. As hypothesized, he'd gained over a foot in height and an enormous amount of muscle mass and strength. What they hadn't accounted for was the way his skin seemed gray and overstretched, drooping obscenely around his eye sockets and mouth to show the muscle and sinew beneath. It wasn't just the skin on the man's face, either. At the top of his chest, the Machine hadn't accommodated for the muscle growth and left a series of holes in the skin from the needles. Those holes had elongated and drooped and Howard could see beneath the gray skin there as well.

His eyes were hazy and the intelligent, bright young man Howard had met was nowhere to be seen. He studied Howard for a long moment before asking, "Er... skine?" in a laborious, deep voice.

"He," Howard started to explain but just pointed to the charred, electrocuted bodies on the floor. "He didn't make it, pal."

The Subject looked at the burnt bodies and an expression of great and vast sorrow spread across that monstrous face.

"Stark!" one of the Brass shouted at him from the booth behind him. "What the hell happened! Is that—What is that? Is it hostile?"

"He's not hostile," he answered, even though he wasn't sure. "Are you, pal?"

* . * . *

Bucky was disoriented. He'd been strapped down to that table in Zola's lab and then he wasn't. He'd been rescued by a hulking man in a costume and mask. The man hadn't said a word, not even when the Red Skull had taunted him and removed his own skin. Bucky'd been completely disgusted by the scene and if he'd had anything on his stomach he probably would have thrown it up.

That in and of itself was enough to think Bucky might still be stuck on that table. What sort of nightmare was he trapped in, that someone would just peel off his own face? It didn't help that when they were making camp, the costumed man had remained by his side the entire time. Helpful. _Overly_ helpful, even, and entirely too strong compared to a normal man. He hadn't taken off any part of his costume either, and when he wasn't needed he just stood stock still near Bucky, like some weird masked sentinel.

Bucky had tried to convince the man to get some sleep but he wasn't sure how much the fella understood. When he woke up on the opposite side of camp from where he'd left the costumed stranger he found him standing over him. In the light of day, Bucky could see the man's cloudy eyes, eyes that might have once been blue but now looked filmy and wrong. Parts of the man's costume had been torn and small bits of skin were peeking through.

Bits of gray, bloodless skin. Bucky'd seen enough dead bodies in enough different ways to recognize it. At first, he didn't say anything, he blinked and looked purposefully away. The stranger stayed close to him all that day as well. Bucky wondered if the man had eaten or even gone to the toilet, as the fella hadn't left his side to do either.

That night, he again tried to bed down away from the stranger, this time in a small copse of trees that felt more private than right on the road with the rest of the men. The longer he'd been in the man's company the more convinced he was that he was still on that table. He was hallucinating. Dying. Or maybe he was already dead. The following morning, again, the stranger was standing over him. When Bucky tried to send him away, using the excuse that they should check on the many men that had been rescued from the factory, the stranger didn't move.

He did speak though. "Buc...ky."

Bucky blinked, shocked and a little scared. He didn't go by his nickname here. He was either Sergeant Barnes or Jimmy. He hadn't felt the need to share what his friends and family back home had called him. "Who are you?" he asked the man.

The stranger who didn't eat or speak. Or sleep or shit. The stranger with the bloodless skin.

" _What_ are you?" he asked. He figured that if he was trapped in his own head then it wouldn't matter if he were rude to his alleged rescuer.

The stranger reached up and unbuckled the latch that held his mask in place with clumsy fingers. When he removed it, Bucky stumbled back and landed on his ass. He stared up at the abomination above him, terrified out of his mind because, despite the grotesque way his mind had distorted it, he recognized the man underneath.

"Steve?"

The creature smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://ivyentwined.tumblr.com). Happy Halloween!


End file.
